Adapting Lord of the Flies

Adaptations will be discussed throughout this essay, but will open with a discussion of particularly why it is so popular amongst film studios (to adapt) and the possible drawbacks it has to offer by drawing upon various different film titles and theorists. This essay strives to compare the various adaptations of William Goldings famous novel Lord of the Flies. There have been lots of different versions of the text that have been submitted into the mainstream consciousness. This essay will specifically look at direct adaptations like the 1963 version directed by Peter Brook, the 1990 version directed by Harry Hook; as well as briefly mentioning somewhat more indirect variations, specifically the episode of The Simpsons, Das Bus (season nine, episode fourteen) and will look at the first season of the 2001 television series Lost. This essay will explore the idea that a piece of adapted media’s worth is usually determined through its fidelity and not through its individual creative merits - can a film (or any form of media) still be regarded as a creative piece of art if it is using a pre-existing piece of text? It will also branch out and look at the artistic changes that were made during the adapting of Lord of the Flies, and their subsequent creative consequences.

The current definition of adaptation used by the majority of the public, is when a film or television series is created and it is explicitly based on a book. But, a more accurate definition would be any piece of text that is based explicitly on a pre-existing text, so this  is much more inclusive. Whether they strictly follow their chosen source material or interpreting concepts extracted from the original work, adaptations are certainly additions or interpretations of the original story (Van Vugt, 2011) Adaptation has ingrained  itself in our medias culture, with popular novels being converted into films every day. Since the dawn of cinema, the notion of adapting literary works has firmly rooted itself within the business of filmmaking. Dating back to the 1900s, famous titles like Romeo and Juliet are seen straight off the bat. There are scores of reasons that filmmakers during the silent period of film turned to literary works to fuel their films plots; for example, the stories were already well known, so they were not tied down by the need to explain everything through dialogue; adaptations were also viewed as a way to effectively bring great literary works to the masses; some filmmakers were under the impression that the association between literature (which was often revered as great, intellectual works of art) and film (which wasn’t respected by critics as complex pieces of art at the time) would elevate the status of film (Cartmell, 2012) These reasons for adapting, minus the latter as films reputation in the eyes of artistic critics have changed dramatically, are still somewhat applicable to modern day adaptations. Filmmakers are able to reduce the risk of a film failing by producing a well known piece of text in the form of a film. Essentially, there is a ready made audience and a specific target to market if a studio is adapting, for example, a well known book series. Look at the Harry Potter franchise, it has been a great success, both critically as well as financially. The last installment in the series, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part Two broke UK box offices at its time of release in 2011, making £23 million in its first weekend (BBC 2011). Money acts as a huge motivation for studios being keen to adapt popular texts, as they are able to cash in on popular commodities. The legal framework means that literary copyright also only applies to the literal copying of words, so this allows filmmakers to take the basis of a text and manipulate it. This is particularly useful in the situation of a popular piece of text that has aspects that fans are not happy with. Take the Hunger Games trilogy for example. After the success of the first two films, satisfied fans took to various social media platforms to express their delight, specifically Catching Fire (the second installment), being hailed as being faithful to the book - then strongly lobby for the third film (Mockingjay), to be a completely different reimagining from the book, which left a lot of fans disappointed with the end to the trilogy.

Of course this choice to potentially deviate from the source text opens itself up to a lot of criticisms. If films, in general, do not faithfully adhere to the existing text, this can make fans of the original piece angry. In the case of films that are the product of an adaptation of a piece of literature, there is a constant battle of book versus film. “In most studies of reflexive adaptations of literature, however, the films are said to be secondary to a different category of antecedent "reality," which is the source text and, often, its own superior reflexivity …” (Colon, 2013, p. 143)  The Seeker: The Dark Is Rising is an excellent example of a source text has been pitted against its film counterpart that was received with overwhelming negativity. It was  released in the United States and Canada on October 5, 2007. The film grossed $3,745,315 in 3,141 theaters in its opening weekend, ranking #5 at the box office in the United States and Canada. The Seeker had one of the poorest starts for a fantasy film. The reason for its abject reception was because of the high bar set by the previously discussed Harry Potter franchise. Many reviewers took to comparing The Seeker to Harry Potter as a disappointing relative, which is what the changes ironically strived to avoid. The films disregard for its source materials left fans angered by the whole experience.

Having explored the history and definitions of adaptations, this essay will now apply what has already been discussed, as well as new theories, to the many variations of Goldings Lord of the Flies. A brief history of the source text is that it was published in 1954, being Golding's first novel. Initially, it was not received particularly well - it sold fewer than 3,000 copies in the United States during 1955 before eventually going out of print. But, by the early 1960’s it quickly became required reading in many places of education. It is known for its controversial themes of human nature, specifically the conflict between the need of order and justice versus the descent into savagery. There have been arguments that say that Lord of the Flies is an allegory of the breakdown of society due to a fatal flaw in human nature (Fitzgerald and Krayser, 2002) There are five characters in the books that represent these two pillars of humanity - Ralph and Piggy are the figureheads of society and order; Jack and Roger are the savage characters that allow themselves to regress to a barbaric state of hunting and murder; Simon is a character who, in death, represents the boys loss of innocence and truth. He is killed during the feast that Jack’s tribe is hosting and during a frenzied dance, they kill him when they mistake him for the “beast” as he emerges from the forest during the night. This act kickstarts the bloodlust of Jacks tribe as towards the end of the book (and the films) when Piggy and Ralph are trying to reason with the tribe, Piggy is murdered deliberately, whereas Simons death can be interpreted as an accident. There is one thing that is pivotal in the source text that is completely omitted from both the 1963 and 1990 film version, which is the importance of the conch. Whilst the conch does appear in both films, it is not shown getting smashed, which is an important motif in the books as the destruction of society. The 1963 version was ultimately more well received than its 1990 counterpart. This could be because of the films fidelity to the source text. This statement brings up the idea that Thomas Leitch proposed which is that “Fidelity makes sense as a criterion of value only when we can be certain that the model is more valuable than the copy.” (Leitch, 2007, p. 6) As previously discussed, films are often regarded as secondary to its source text. So the fact that the 1963 version of Lord of the Flies was received with almost universally positive reviews, brings up an interesting question - did it do better because demonstrated a closer representation of the source material than the 1990 version? But, looking at  adaptations from the perspective of fidelity has been shown as too limiting. More and more critics have started to believe that literature as art did not want closure, that it was not easily wrapped up within one specific approach (of fidelity). Literature opens itself up a to a huge number of communicative possibilities through which it could speak to the audience. Meanings within literature can be considered as events that took place in the readers imagination. Therefore it is necessary to remember that filmmakers had to be seen as readers with their own rights, and each adaptation – as a result of individual reading processes (Marciniak [year unavailable])

The 1990 version, directed by Harry Hook, underwent quite a lot of creative changes. The boys are changed to American Military Schoolboys rather than British Schoolboys. This can be justified though as it means that the boys knowledge of survival skills that they demonstrate (hunting/building shelters/creating fires etc.) are somewhat more plausible if they have a military education. Another interesting change that the 1990 version applied to Golding's novel was that during the murder of Simon, Piggy and Ralph are explicitly shown to be looking on in horror as the tribe murders the young boy. In the novel however, it is implied that Piggy and Ralph partake in the killing of Simon. This could be because Hook wanted Ralph and Piggy to remain characters that the audience could identify and root for - if the film had shown these characters taking part in killing Simon, they would have instantly become less sympathetic characters that the audience would not have been able to relate with quite as easily. Whatever bond had been created between the viewers and the characters would have been tainted. Although the film went through many more changes, nonetheless it remained a moderate box office success and received fairly average reviews from the critics. As previously stated, the 1963 version was much more widely received as a much more faithful (therefore supposedly acceptable) adaptation. Brook, the director, was nominated for the ‘Golden Palm’ at the 1963 Cannes Film Festival as a result of his version of Lord of the Flies (Cannes Festival 1963) Brooks made the creative decision to try and stay faithful to the source material.

But it’s not just  direct adaptations that matter in media today. The ever popular television series The Simpsons, famous for it’s consistent pop culture references, tried it’s hand at a Lord of the Flies themed episode titled Das Bus (a pop culture reference in itself). With an expansive history, parody has proven itself a popular mode of adaptation: “Critical intertextualities crown form exists in parody.” (Gray, 2006, p. 43) This applies to many of The Simpsons episodes. Another popular version that was seen by the masses was the television series Lost, the first season of which could almost be considered  a modern day imagining of Lord of the Flies, with adults instead of children. It follows many of the themes, plot points and character archetypes in Golding's novel. It even references the novel at various points in the show. Strangely, despite its similarities to Golding's novel, Lost never seemed to suffer any of the fidelity issues that Brooks and Hooks films were subjected to. Is this because it went through enough changes, whilst only holding the core ideals of the novel, that it broke through the label of an adaption and into the assumption that it is an original piece of work (despite the show being conceived by the head of ABC Lloyd Braun based on his desire for a television show that was a cross between Lord of the Flies and various other survival stories).

In conclusion, the question of fidelity in relation to adaptations has been applied to so many adapted films that the value of the film seems to be determined only by its reflection of its source material and not as an independent piece of art. It is important to remember that filmmakers are readers of these source texts too and their adaptation as a result of their individual reading of the material - because everyone's reading of these texts will be entirely unique. To answer the question stated in the introduction (can an adapted piece of media still be considered a piece of original, creative art when using a pre-existing text?), the answer is yes, because it is a still a piece of media that goes through the creative process whilst being created - choices are made and these choices are distinctive to that particular adaptation.

Reference List.

BBC., 2011. Entertainment and Arts, [online], [viewed 16 December 2013] available from:  http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/entertainment-arts-14183632

CANNES FESTIVAL., 1963. Nominations. [online] [viewed 16 December 2013] available from: http://www.festival-cannes.com/en/archives/ficheFilm/id/3116/year/1963.html

CARTMELL, D., ed. 2012. A Companion to Literature, Film and Adaptation. Chichester: Wiley-Blackwell.

COLON, G., 2012. Radical Reflexivity in Cinematic Adaptation: Second Thoughts on Reality, Originality, and Authority. International Bibliography of Theatre & Dance Vol. 41 Issue 2, p143-153, 11p

FITZGERALD, J and KRAYSER, J., 2002. Golding’s Lord of the Flies: Pride as original sin. Denton: University of North Texas.

GRAY, J., 2006. Watching with The Simpsons: Television, Parody, and Intertextuality. [online] Routeledge [viewed 16 December 2013]. Available from :  http://books.google.co.uk/books?id=lNTqZmW_HiQC&printsec=frontcover&source=gbs_ge_summary_r&cad=0#v=onepage&q&f=false

LEITCH, T., 2007. Film adaptation and its discontents: from Gone with the Wind to The Passion of the Christ. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press

MARCINIAK, M., [year unavailable]. The appeal of literature-to-film adaptations. [publication location and publishers unavailable].

VAN VUGT, N., 2011. Film adaptation, Alternative  cinema and Lynchain  moments of transposition.  Canada: McMaster University.

Fight Club and Masculinity

Contemporary screen media has seen a significant change in the way that it displays masculinity, which in the past hundred years or so has been seen as being in a recurring state of crisis (Baker 2008). The way that this crisis of masculinity within Hollywood has manifested itself, and the way it is explored, has ranged from a visceral male anger, as seen in films such as Fight Club (1999) and American Psycho (2000) which portray a violent response to the way society expects men to express their masculinity, to movies such as American Beauty (1999), which depicts a more subdued response in its criticism of the feminised, white collar ‘New Man’ (Deakin 2012). Focusing specifically on Fight Club, a film which is centred around a young, white man working in a job he hates, this essay will analyse the way in which it comments on the idea of masculinity in crisis.

The depiction of white, heterosexual men struggling with the perceived threat to conventional masculinity has become more prolific within the arts and popular culture (Gymnich et al. 2010). Gates (2012) explains that the starting point of masculinity descending into crisis can be traced to the rise of second-wave feminism, which began in the 1960s, and the consequent social change spurred on by the empowerment of women. With an increasing number of women leaving the home and entering the workplace - a space which had previously been dominated by men - male dominance was faced with a major challenge. By the 1980s, more and more women were managing to secure high-paying professional and corporate jobs. This apparent rise in the importance of women’s roles resulted in a perceived feeling that the masculine role was becoming more diminished. Observers often associate these masculine anxieties with war; in reference to British masculinity, this crisis goes in hand with the end of the Second World War, when thousands of men returned to a country whose domestic landscape had been changed by the need to operate without them. The traditional spheres of gender, which depict women in the home and men in the workplace, were redefined as women entered the factories in support of the war effort (Genz and Brabon 2009) and it was discovered that women could do the same jobs, and to the same standard of quality, as their male counterparts. McInnes (cited in Gates 2012) points out that attributes which were once celebrated as masculine features, such as strength, rationality and backbone, had now evolved into male downfalls, such as aggression, coldness and an inability to communicate. According to studies which took place during the late 1980s and into the 1990s, the ‘average’ male had come to feel alienated and uneasy within this changed environment, as those masculine qualities that would once have been of benefit to him were now perceived to be outdated and disadvantageous (Slack 2008).

The ‘New Man’ refers to the way in which early 1990s cinema depicted white heterosexual men, who were often displayed on screen as domesticated, feminised and/or paternal figures (Nelmes 2003). The creation of the ‘New Man’ has a direct correlation to the masculine crisis because, in many ways, it is itself the product of this masculine anxiety. The ‘New Man’ was born out of the perception of a change within men’s attitudes to issues such as gender equality, and the way men’s roles in the home were changing, specifically in relation to parenting and the shared responsibility of housekeeping (Slack 2008). The ‘New Man’ stereotype also refers to an increased willingness among men to connect with what were previously perceived to be more typically feminised aspects of the self, such as being in touch with and expressing their emotions. Beyon (cited in Baker 2008, p. 67) attributes the redefinition of masculinity to “changes in employment patterns, loss of the ‘breadwinner’ hegemony and the high profile of feminised ‘New Man’ models, and particularly the loss of masculine ‘rights’.” Ging (2012) further associates the label ‘New Man’ with terms such as ‘gay’ and ‘metrosexual’, which again emphasises the way that the ‘New Man’ has been feminised. The description is now being lumped together with the kind of terminology used to describe homosexual men who have been strongly feminised by society and the media (Cook 2014), and to refer to men who take particular effort in their grooming and physical appearance, both of which are typically seen as feminine qualities.

Fight Club, directed by David Fincher and released in 1999, is a film about masculinity in crisis; it centres around the young, white, American male and the way in which he has become alienated, feminised and frustrated with capitalism and the life he is forced to lead in the late twentieth century (Nelmes 2003). The key theme at the heart of the film focuses on the way that men’s role in society has changed, and how there appears to be a lack of meaning in their lives. This motif is addressed several times throughout the movie, in speeches almost always delivered by the infamous Tyler Durden. In one of his opening speeches to the men of fight club, he states: “We're the middle children of history, man. No purpose or place. We have no Great War. No Great Depression. Our Great War's a spiritual war... Our Great Depression is our lives.” For these men, fight club is supposed to give its members a task, some purpose and a place in history - to be remembered and thus to have led a meaningful life (Gymnich et al. 2010). The Narrator and the members of the exclusively male fight club, an underground bare knuckle boxing society, are trying to reclaim their lost sense of masculinity through taking part in a brutal display violence and male bonding, as in their day-to-day lives they feel powerless (Kimmel and Aronson 2003). For some critics, the violence in Fight Club serves as a metaphor to represent the inner struggle of men who wish to destroy the new form of masculinity they have come to know before it has a chance to destroy them (Lee cited in Shary 2012).

Eventually the fight club group splinters into a sister organisation, ‘Project Mayhem’, a faction obsessed with anti-capitalism. However, in order to join ‘Project Mayhem’, members of the fight club must endure a series of harsh tests in order to be considered masculine enough to be accepted (Nelmes 2003). The members of ‘Project Mayhem’ attribute much of their loss of masculinity to consumerism and therefore focus their attacks on symbols of corporate culture, such as coffee shop chains. This eventually develops into targeting the buildings of major credit card companies, with the end goal being to erase all debt (Kimmel and Aronson 2003). Fight Club criticises consumerism, depicting it as an ideological entity which is breaking men down, weakening them and domesticating them (Lewis 2002). The Narrator addresses this when he and Tyler are on a bus and he points at a Gucci underwear advertisement showcasing the torso of a muscular looking man wearing a pair of boxer shorts, and asks: “Is that what a man looks like?”. Just before posing this question, The Narrator expresses his pity for men who force themselves to go to the gym every day in order to achieve a specific type of body because that is what Calvin Klein and Tommy Hilfiger decree they should look like.

The Narrator versus Tyler Durden dynamic explores the ‘New Man’ versus anxious male who wants to reclaim his masculinity. The Narrator embodies the domesticated man: he is passive, alienated and without ambition. Tyler, on the other hand, exemplifies the sort of masculinity that rejects the allure of consumerism (Giroux 2003). The Narrator’s crisis of identity is shown in a literal sense throughout the film. At first he adopts various names when attending group therapy sessions for different diseases, and then later on in the film it is revealed that Tyler is his alter ego. This identity crisis is further emphasised when it is pointed out that The Narrator does not even have a name; he is never addressed by a specific title and is even credited as ‘Narrator’ at the end of the film (Ruddell 2014). By contrast, The Narrator’s alter ego has a first and last name, Tyler Durden, which is repeated constantly throughout the film. The Narrator is dissatisfied with his life, he represents the Everyman (Giroux 2003) with his fear of a loss of masculinity. The Narrator has been constructed to be relatable to men, a character who is dissatisfied with his personal and professional life, whose only respite from this unhappy monotony is through his desire to complete the perfect ‘IKEA home’. The Narrator even tries to find a sense of identity through this aim, asking questions such as: “What kind of dining set defines me as a person?”. Essentially, The Narrator's identity is that of a consumer, and that is all (Shary 2012).

For Tyler Durden this dissatisfaction and unhappiness is not applicable, as he was created out of a response to a perceived loss of masculinity and identity. Instead, Tyler is regarded as the ideal in masculine perfection. The Narrator created Tyler to be everything he himself is not, and as a result of this, Tyler’s characteristics are deeply rooted in the traditional perception of macho masculinity (Ruddell 2014). This is highlighted when,  after the reveal that Tyler is a creation of The Narrator, Tyler explains: “All the ways you wish you could be, that’s me. I look like you wanna look, I fuck like you wanna fuck, I am smart, capable, and most importantly, I am free in all the ways you are not.” Tyler takes steps to help The Narrator reclaim his masculinity, and the beginning of this journey can be pinpointed to when Tyler blows up The Narrator's apartment. The IKEA set that The Narrator had become so obsessed with is destroyed, forcing him to abandon his consumerist lifestyle in search of a more meaningful one, and thus marking the beginning of his quest for an identity (Klemens 2007).

Fight Club also exhibits its fear of a loss of masculinity through its relationship with its female characters, as well as in the representation of the male body throughout the film. The singular female character in the film, Marla Singer, is, in The Narrator's eyes, the source of all his problems. She ruins the group therapy sessions he attends at the beginning of the film for him, and she drives a wedge between The Narrator and Tyler when she strikes up a sexual relationship with Tyler. As the The Narrator explains: “She ruined everything.” The narrative deliberately makes Marla - and the sexual threat that she represents - key to the masculine identity crisis (Wager 2009). This highlights the threat women appear to pose to men, in the sense that they are making men replaceable: entering the workplace, earning the breadwinner title etc. In fact, Marla represents the male fear of castration, a theme which runs throughout Fight Club (Nelmes 2003). It is a literal response to the fear of a loss of masculinity: the fear of losing the penis. Castration is presented as the ultimate act in the removal of the masculine identity, and Fight Club takes steps to combat this, through the animalistic aggression of the fight scenes (Packer 2002).   

In a bar, Tyler tells The Narrator that his situation (his destroyed apartment) could be worse: instead, a woman could cut off his penis and throw it out the window - here, Marla is implied to be the woman to whom he refers as the audience does not know any other female characters in the film. In Tyler and Marla’s first meeting in Marla’s apartment, Tyler notices a large dildo on her bedroom drawer. She quickly assures him, although mockingly, that it does not pose a threat to him (Kuhn and Rubin 2009). It does, however, because it shows that men could be perceived as replaceable, not only by women in the workplace but by dildoes in the bedroom. The film draws upon these phallic images in order to suggest the notion of masculine vulnerability, and Tyler’s response to this is to reclaim his manhood through various acts of rebellion, such as inserting images of penises into family films at the cinema; urinating into the soup of rich customers at a restaurant; and threatening the chief of police at the head of the ‘Project Mayhem’ investigation by targeting the chief’s testicles (Gymnich et al. 2010). Castration is a fate that almost befalls The Narrator, which would be fitting as he represents the feminised ‘New Man’. Tyler describes his generation as men who have lost their masculinities, and attributes this to the women in their lives and the absent father figures: “We are a generation of men raised by women.” He blames women for the feminisation of the men of his generation and, by extension, for the loss of their masculine identity (Rehling 2010).    

The men in Fight Club seek to reclaim their bodies and their masculinities from the threat of castration (figuratively and literally) from women, and to free themselves from the consumerist culture that has surrounded them. They do this through fighting with each other, inflicting their bodies with cuts, bruises and broken bones which have historically been perceived as badge of manliness (Armstrong 2014). “The wounded male body is stylised as an icon of the crisis of masculinity and creates a bond between the members.” (Gymnich et al. 2010, p. 51). By marking their bodies with scars and imperfections, the men strive to reject the ideal of the perfect body which has been imposed upon them, such as the unscarred, flawless and faceless male model of the Gucci underwear bus advertisement that The Narrator and Tyler mock. The implication is that such self-inflicted pain offers the men a way to re-establish their autonomy over their bodies and “break out of the chains of a commodity culture that has reduced masculinity to an image that can be bought or sold.” (Rehling 2010, p. 85). Tyler embodies this idea; he is consistently shown as bloodied, beaten, greasy, dirty etc., but also within a powerful context: the camera often points up towards him, which puts him in a position of power. At one point, the film draws a contrast between the idealised masculine body (Tyler) and the flawless, consumer culture-driven ‘New Man’ Gucci model seen from the bus. Tyler is framed in the exact same pose as the model in the advertisement, although with Tyler in the bruised aftermath of a fight he has just won (Baker 2008).

In conclusion, Fight Club, in common with many films released during the same period and even today, showcases a specific response to the way that masculinity and male identity has been challenged. This crisis of masculinity is shown as a real anxiety within Fight Club, and is depicted through themes such as loss of purpose, the impact of consumer culture, what it means to be a man and the threat posed by women to the male identity. This is explored through the relationship between ‘The Narrator’ and his alter-ego Tyler Durden, which, when analysed, represents the ‘New Man’ and his quest for a masculine identity.  

References

ARMSTRONG, J., 2014. Experimental Fiction: An Introduction for Readers and Writers. London: Bloomsbury.

BAKER, B., 2008. Masculinity in Fiction and Film: Representing Men in Popular Genres, 1945-2000. London: Continuum International Publishing Group.

COOK, M., 2014. Queer Domesticities: Homosexuality and Home Life in Twentieth-Century London. London: Palgrave Macmillan.

DEAKIN, P., 2012. Masculine Identity Crisis in Hollywood’s Fin De Millennium Cinema. Doctor of Philosophy in the Faculty of Humanities thesis ed. University of Manchester.

GATES, P., 2012. Detecting Men: Masculinity and the Hollywood Detective Film. Albany: State University of New York Press.

GENZ, S., BRABON, B., 2009. Postfeminism: Cultural Texts and Theories. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press.

GING, D., 2012. Men and Masculinities in Irish Cinema. Ireland: Palgrave Macmillan.

GIROUX, H., 2003. Public Spaces, Private Lives: Democracy Beyond 9/11. USA: Rowman & Littlefield Publishers, Inc.

GYMNICH, M., RUHL, K., SCHEUNEMANN, K., 2010. Gendered (re)visions: Constructions of Gender in Audiovisual Media. Germany: V&R Unipress.

KIMMEL , M., ARONSON, A., 2003. Men and Masculinities: A Social, Cultural, and Historical Encyclopedia. California: ABC-CLIO, Inc.

KLEMENS, N., 2007. IKEA Boys and Terrorists: Fight Club in the Light of 9/11. Germany: GRIN Verlag.

KUHN, C., RUBIN, L., 2009. Reading Chuck Palahniuk: American Monsters and Literary Mayhem. New York: Routledge.

LEWIS, J., 2002. The End of Cinema as We Know It: American Film in the Nineties. London: Pluto Press.

NELMS, J., 2003. An Introduction to Film Studies. New York: Routledge.

PACKER, S., 2002. Dreams in Myth, Medicine and Movies. USA: Praeger Publishers.

REHLING, N., 2010. Extra-Ordinary Men: White Heterosexual Masculinity and Contemporary Popular Cinema. UK: Lexington Books.

RUDDELL, C., 2014. The Besieged Ego: Doppelgangers and Split Identity on Screen. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press.

SHARY, T., 2012. Millennial Masculinity: Men in Contemporary American Cinema. Detroit: Wayne State University Press.

SLACK, N., 2008. A Cinema of White Masculine Crisis: Race and Gender in Contemporary British Film. Doctor of Philosophy thesis ed. University of Sussex.

WAGER, J., 2009. Dames in the Driver’s Seat: Rereading Film Noir. Austin: University of Texas Press.